Saturday, 30 August 2014

You are beautiful

It is spring again
With sun’s warmest smile
The kiss of the breeze
And you dance for me
Pretty Butterfly
Colorful fairy
And you entice me
With you I ponder
You give me pleasure
You do me no harm
You are beautiful
A true gift from God

It is the first day of Spring in Australia on September 1st

Image of Red Admirals from

One sided phone call

We have lost contact
It concerns me we are apart
I want to see you

State the time and place
The community centre?
I still care for you

Please listen to me
Just for a coffee and a chat
In fact I love you

No purpose is served?
Its decades since the break up
How can you say that?

Collaborate please
You’re so uncompromising
So it’s goodbye is it?

Image from

Who is she?

                                         'Conversation' by Renoir 1879

Oh! Who is she, what a blast from the past, did I know her?

There was something about her eyes or was it her hands that rang a bell, a distant nudge in my memory.  Oh, so beautiful it was; like the smell of coffee on a Paris boulevard, the laughter in a passing gondola, the glimpse of a face across a crowded dance floor. Or was it a sweet kiss as New Year was welcomed to shouts and song and she eager, only too willingly offered her lips while on that cruise in the Pacific?

Yes, I knew her but from where and how long ago, I could not fathom.

“I think I may know you” I said tentatively.

She looked me in the eyes, searched them intently, but said not a word but merely shook her head sadly. I wondered,whether that was denial or that she did not wish to remember me nor in fact confirm that I had guessed right.

Finally she spoke, “A thousand years ago you broke my heart”.

Still I could not recall her name or the place or the time.

“You are lucky to have forgotten”, she said then explained, “Yes, we were friends, we talked a lot and we laughed a lot but we did everything together. Our jobs eventually took us in different directions.”

Here she paused to touch the ring on her finger covering it but at the same time turning it too. Was it that she wanted to hide it or even remove it or merely confirm to herself she was now married and shouldn't flirt with me.

Then she said, “You've even forgotten my name haven’t you?”

I shook my head as I recalled my foolishness, I had deceived her. “No, I do remember you now. But if I say your name I will come over and hold you in my arms. Then I won’t let you escape again”.

“I didn't escape; you found someone else and left me crying at the station when you told me. Don’t you remember we adored each other? We were so close but you just had to play the field to make sure.”

She had by now stopped playing with the ring; it had clearly worked its magic and she became a happily married woman once again.

Just then a man walked up and said to her, “I am so sorry I am so late”. He looked at me a then back to her quizzically.

“This is just an old friend from when I was young and stupid. We used to play tennis together”, she explained.

He nodded at me and I tried not to look at him as I bade her farewell saying “Perhaps I’ll see you again in another twenty years.” Then I strode away carrying a big bag of memories and regrets. 

Wednesday, 27 August 2014

That sweet surrender

Curious puzzle
Love and death are much the same
When you give your all

I am not heartless
But is life bearable when
Mixed with grief’s cruel sting?

No love without loss
Seductive entanglement
Such sweet surrender

Image found at

Monday, 25 August 2014

Schoolboy's luck

I looked in her eyes
She lowered them in surprise
That I'd wooed her

And spoke of young love
Blonde with a cute turned up nose
She looked back at me

Curious that I
Would dare to invade her thoughts
In her spring of life

She wanted to frown
Luckily I was the first
To interest her

Sadly the bell rang
“May I walk you home?” I asked
In reply a nod

She turned then ran off
I couldn't believe I’d dared
As I rushed to class

Later on our walk
A friend took a shot of us
sat on the park bench

Image from

Saturday, 23 August 2014

The breeze blew in from the sea

I climbed to the cliff top
the breeze blew in from the sea
gulls curious now flew in too
inspecting me mid flight
baffled that I was at their height
and not facing the wind
raised their beaks in disdain
cawed noisily and swept away

Long absent from this shore
my bones had told me
that this longing, this yearning
within me was the call of the wild
I knew that language well
that salty tang of the ocean
a constant rhythm of the waves
the beating of the surf, and you

We came all those years ago
borne in a rickety horse drawn dray
in now what seems today
to be a thousand summers ago
we spoke the same language
that of a stuttering teenage love
but a love we could not sustain
now I remember you once again

Image from

Friday, 22 August 2014

Doom and Gloom

Doom and gloom again
That is how I feel reading
From the front pages

Disaster faces us
Or vain sports and pop starlets
Journalism stinks

The seeds have been sown
For newspapers destruction
Why do I feel sad?

For I remember
When reporting was an art
All was black and white

This is one more nail
Truthful reporting now dumb
From the front pages

We are now mindless
Tools for hidden persuaders
Our brains are now dead

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Wednesday, 20 August 2014

Faithful Love

As I felt morose
I struggled from bed today
Same old, same old world

Just as an impulse
I walked down to the beachside
To breathe in the air

Walkers were sparse here
So the sea and shore were mine
My faithful old love

She whispered to me
Covered me with briny kisses
To lift my spirits

Image from

Monday, 18 August 2014

Sea Drift

                      Sculpture on seat at Somerton Park, South Australia (Photo by author)

I often walk this stretch of beach
For the sea has much to teach
The tides come in and then they ebb
Bringing news just like the web

I stroll far along on this sand
But now there’s none to hold my hand
We used to laugh and shells collect
How easy that is to recollect

The seaweed drifts in on the tide
Sometimes high and sometimes wide
It’s as though I could meet her here
Oh how we’d hug and shed a tear

What if she came when I was gone?
Who would say I still grieve alone?
Perhaps I’ll tell that man up there
Why does he forever inland stare?

Perhaps like me he lost his love
Long waiting there ne’er to move
Lest she come like me to walk again
To meet and ever end our pain

Sunday, 17 August 2014

That orangy tang

I always had a love
of the smell of oranges
a sign that those grey days
were gone after a lifetime of war
Oh, what grand plans we had
once reborn in a land of peace
after years of abomination
flirting with cruel fate
Like one of the demimonde
after fighting for freedom
we forbade it to others
our African and Asian brothers
they downtrodden while we lit
candles of hope for ourselves
denying asylum and love
as evil transgressions
and strange allegiances
in the name of national interest 
were chanted like
some strange rites in
a behaviour that I myself
wanted no part of
so today I can still
smell that orangy tang 
but now I weep sadly as
some strange hand
sweeps across the land
and carves senseless borders
into the lives and minds of mankind

Image found at

Saturday, 16 August 2014

This child in my arms

How many sleeps do we have to sleep
laying there for that promise to keep
that no child will be born in poverty?

How many nights do others lay awake
dreaming of play and pieces of cake
while we sleep on soundly?

How many days do we see the dawn
Yet others don’t soon after they’re born
while we can get up uncaring?

I am troubled with thoughts like these
yet others live their lives with ease
laughing and scoffing and playing away

Would you please tell me, someone soon
as to this child in my arms I croon
why is your life of more value than theirs

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Friday, 15 August 2014

Just three little kids

Just three little kids
Wading barefoot in the stream
Glorious summer

Just three little kids
Run with their dog in the park
Screaming with laughter

Just three little kids
With a bag full of lollies
Heaven for a day

Note the Australian term Lollies can be translated as Bonbons (Fr), Candy (US) or Sweets (UK)

Image from

Wednesday, 13 August 2014

What love was

She wasn’t normally squeamish but she wrinkled up her nose with disgust. Since fleeing their home a few hours ago her husband had taken them not with the other straggling band of inhabitants from their village on the main road south but across country to the east. He had chosen to escape from the mercenaries this way as they would not be so obvious. A ramshackle crowd of people moving slowly in front of an advancing army was in his mind foolish to the extreme.

He had taken them to the sewage pits on the far side of town. All was still and quiet there as they sat down to rest and looked across the pools of water where hundreds of birds had gathered looking for food. As they sheltered in the bushes the nervous creatures got back to their fossicking. Egrets, a few swans, and ducks by the dozen. Around them as she pulled open her clothes to offer her breast to their little girl, other smaller birds, confident that they meant no harm came out too while swallows swooped low over the water flicking their heads as the picked up insects in flight.

She became accustomed to the smell and felt less squeamish now that he had chosen this route to escape. She watched him as he held their boy and pointed the birds all around them. He had told her they would cross the hills to seek their freedom. She looked sadly at him talking with the little boy. Freedom was a foreign word it meant nothing as they had never experienced it. Being of a religious minority meant they were welcome nowhere. They all worshiped the same god but it was the way you did that stood you apart. Governments were invisible to them they were merely represented by the military who were godless anyway. So they had to flee or face eradication.

He husband turned and pointed to the hills. They were on the move again. Both she and her husband picked fresh leaves and berries from the bushes and ate them as they walked along. There should be water there he had said for it rained more on high land. So slowly they approached the high country. He kept saying “Eat, eat!” to her.

“Why” she asked.

“Because you may have to feed the boy too”. 

She lowered her eyes and understood. Their son was only three, already weaned but they had to stay alive somehow and he was desperate that they all got to safety. She had never really thought whether he loved her or not, as their marriage had been arranged but now seeing that certain look in his eyes. She finally knew what love was.

Image from

Monday, 11 August 2014

She's in the Caribbean

She was glamorous
She made the grade to a tee
Far as I could see

She was colorful
Had a sparkle in her eye
Only meant for me

She was so cheeky
So pretty this girl of mine
Oh, she was divine

Seasons come and go
And autumn took her away
Said she could not stay

I’ve no companion
She’s in the Caribbean
Keeping others warm

image from

Saturday, 9 August 2014

That Exquisite Touch

There is no limit to my love
My eyes have long bent your way
For oh so many a year

So are you my Juliet?
Or like Ophelia in water drowned?
Maiden still, yet untouched, unloved

For I am no Romeo
Nor Hamlet yet
No, that is not the case

For with me you are the light
Eastward, both sun and hope rising
Just look my way my precious

And straight as an arrow
In flight I will come
And thus to lovers lane for us

So then the sight of you,
The sound of your voice
And that exquisite touch will

From that grain, sprout love
From this yearning
And all my parts will gladly sing

With utmost joy I pray
As you place your hand in mine
I'll see this love in your eyes too

Image from

Passionate Summer

Our forbidden love
Beautiful but dangerous
Sweet and compelling

Touches so tender
Our bodies all entangled
Kisses to die for

I breathe in your scent
Your very soul is now mine
Your lips full crimson

I look in your eyes
Run my fingers through your hair
Passionate summer

I hear your heart beat
Search for a place of our own
Safe from prying eyes

Image found at

Wednesday, 6 August 2014

Night still has her way

Time of mystery
I love the scent of evening
Truth is muddied then

When I walk around
I feel so liberated
By nights sweetest kiss

Then day’s vicious stare
No longer threatens me, for
Moonbeams skip and play

Owl’s hoot whispers love
And rats scamper all around
My friends in shadows

Your fear of darkness
Is for me a constant joy 
Dreamy contentment

Image from

Monday, 4 August 2014

The bag lady

She poked in the bins
Grabbing bottles and tins
Her clothes all tattered

As old as the hills
Fossicking to pay the bills
Was all that mattered

Family all gone
Not even a dog at home
But she still nattered

No one to love her
Not even a cat to purr
Her life was shattered

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Saturday, 2 August 2014

Making an ass of myself

I’m not flamboyant
I’ve no appetite for words
How can I woo her?

Flattery’s not me
I have no gift of the gab
How can I impress?

Jumbled loving words
May cause her irritation
And point to failure

“Stars high up above
How can I signal my love?”
“Sun, how can I shine?”

Tell me the secret
Lest she tire of my mumbling
And see my true self

Cupid saw my cares
So whispered sweet sounds of bliss
Disclosing my love

So she looked on me
An ass with the longest ears
Loving me at last

How soft are her cheeks
How warm are her caresses
Now who's a donkey?

Image found at

Golden Messengers

I have always loved
Marigolds exuberance
Many golden smiles

Bright and colourful
Reminding me of my wife
When smiling at me

Breathing the morning
And happy in her garden
Tending it with care

Now when I see them
Golden angels from heaven
Sacred threads of love

Nodding constantly
Saying I am still with you
Wherever you are

Image from